


Bond

by loves_fealty



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Puppy Play, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_fealty/pseuds/loves_fealty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3 AU in which Chandler is unusually observant when it comes to Kent. Written primarily for the <a href="http://whitechapel-itv.livejournal.com/47602.html">Whitechapel KinkMeme</a> prompt: Chandler wonders if maybe Kent might like to embrace his desire to please and indulge in some puppy play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bond

Chandler’s team were busy working on their latest case. He stood in the threshold of his office and did a quick scan of the activity in front of him before venturing into the incident room to check on their progress.

“What have we got?”

Kent was the first to answer and filled him in on the information he’d found out about Ben Salter, the owner of the shop where he and three others had been murdered. Chandler listened intently while at the same time studying the names written on the board in front of him. He asked a question which Kent duly answered and the report came to its natural conclusion.

The look came when Chandler was still focussed on the whiteboard and lasted less than a second but he caught it out of the corner of his eye. Kent had glanced briefly in his direction before looking away again and it suddenly occurred to him that Kent had been expecting some kind of acknowledgement on a job well done. Had he been remiss in his role as mentor? Kent had gone back to the file he was working on but disappointment was written all over his face, obviously because he thought the moment for praise had passed. When he thought about it Kent always seemed to strive for his approval. It wasn’t a bad thing given their positions but it wasn’t something Chandler necessarily wanted to encourage either so he complimented the boy quickly then transferred his attention.

It didn’t help.

He sensed rather than saw the way Kent’s face lit up with pleasure. Chandler had been the one to put that smile on his face and he was confused by how good it made him feel. He resolved never to think about it again and instead immerse himself in the case.

\+ + +

It wasn’t until they went undercover in The Hooded Crow that Chandler gave Kent’s craving for recognition another thought. The place was hot, smelly and loud, not to mention teeming with undesirables who made him feel even more uncomfortable in his own skin than he usually did. He’d developed a headache the moment he’d walked through the door and wished he could be just about anywhere but there. After trying to talk to some of the women in the club and getting absolutely nowhere, he stepped into the shadows to observe how the rest of his team were getting on.

The good thing about Kent was that he did exactly as he was told. While Mansell seemed to be treating the operation as an excuse for a paid night out, at least Kent looked like he was working even if he did have a beer in his hand. He only hoped Kent was taking it all in because he couldn’t see any evidence of a notebook.

Kent was talking to two young women, both of whom seemed content to engage in conversation with him, when suddenly he became distracted. A man walking past had caught his eye and obviously something about him interested Kent enough to turn his attention away from the ladies in front of him and follow the man’s progress across the dance floor.

Chandler decided to investigate. Perhaps the man fitted a description Kent had been given.  He made his way through the sweaty bodies and purple gloom, close to where his young DC was standing. Kent’s eyes were still glued to the man who by now had joined a small group of people just a few feet away and it suddenly occurred to him why Kent had been staring. The stranger was naked from the waist up but his lack of attire wasn’t unusual given the type of club they were in so Chandler could only assume it was the distinctive leather collar around the man’s neck that had made Kent sit up and take notice.

A heavily-tattooed woman standing next to the man took hold of the lead that was attached to the collar and gave it a small tug, her laughter loud enough to be heard over the music as the man sank to his knees and smiled up at her. It drew Chandler’s attention away from the group and back towards Kent who appeared completely mesmerised by the scene playing out before him and something clicked in Chandler’s mind.

\+ + +

When Kent had accused Chandler of being too personally involved in the Luke Watney case, Chandler had snapped; literally if the temporary pain in his wrist had been anything to go by. He’d reacted purely on instinct, not giving any thought as to how it might affect Kent, and he realised some time later that that was the moment their relationship had shifted.

Chandler had chastised him like never before and dismissed his opinion like it didn’t matter. After Morgan died it got worse. Chandler had unconsciously (perhaps even consciously) left him out of investigations where before he would have actively sought his input. On occasion, he’d even gone so far as to give him jobs that were beneath him. Kent had accepted his diminished role without a word of complaint but it was obvious he’d really taken Chandler’s displeasure to heart. Everyone had noticed how quiet and sullen he’d become, performing his job in such a perfunctory manner that Chandler felt it was only a matter of time before Kent put in for a transfer or left the police force entirely.

Chandler felt ashamed. He’d behaved unprofessionally and it was unfair of him to have made Kent the scapegoat for his own failings. When he called Kent into his office, something he rarely did these days, Kent stood with his head down, meeting his boss’s eyes with apprehension only when Chandler started to talk.

Chandler apologised and Kent’s face slowly began to soften as he gradually took in Chandler’s assurance that nothing like that would ever happen again. By the end of their meeting Kent looked like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and was smiling at Chandler like the whole episode had never happened.

Somehow it made Chandler feel worse.

\+ + +

After the police enquiry into Morgan’s death, the dust finally settled and life went back to normal.

Chandler knew he had to do something about Kent. For months he’d fooled himself into believing Kent was just another member of his team when the truth was that he meant a great deal more to him than that.

He took him to the shop he and Miles had visited when looking for the Spanish Fly. Kent had been the one to inform him of the shop’s existence so Chandler asked him to accompany him on the pretext he needed his advice about something to do with a case. However, when they got through the door he informed Kent he wanted to speak to the proprietor and left him to wander around on his own.

Chandler needed to keep himself occupied away from Kent but he wasn’t about to pretend he was here on official business and expose himself as a policeman to the person behind the counter who, as luck would have it, was the same man he’d encountered on his previous visit.

He’d done some research on the internet the night before and expressed interest in the least embarrassing item the shop sold. He asked a series of pre-planned questions which the man answered competently and with unexpected discretion. After a couple of very long and excruciating minutes, Chandler quickly thanked him and turned to leave, secretly pleased with himself he’d got away with it.

“Worn the old guy out already then?”

Chandler’s heart sank as complacency turned to dismay. His last visit had been a memorable one after all then and the man was obviously trying to provoke some kind of reaction. Chandler thought it best to act innocent and get away as quickly as possible. “Excuse me?” Chandler asked as he turned back.

“Swapped him for a younger model?” the man teased, inclining his head in Kent’s direction.

Chandler glanced over his shoulder, relieved to find Kent was out of earshot, before pointedly ignoring the question and the resulting laughter as he made his escape.

Chandler was oblivious to the customers and hardcore paraphernalia he passed by as he silently approached Kent, concentrating solely on which part of the shop he’d been drawn to.

He felt a little cocky when he found his experiment had paid off. Kent was standing near the back of the shop, seemingly captivated by the dozen or so different styles of collar that hung on the wall in front of him. Chandler felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched Kent tentatively reach out and touch, running his thumb and finger along the dark leather of one which Chandler noted looked particularly soft. He came to a stop directly behind him, so close he could feel the heat from Kent’s body.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly, breathing the words into Kent’s ear. Kent jumped like someone had fired a gun right next to him, releasing the collar and springing back so quickly he almost collided with Chandler’s jaw. Chandler had instinctively stepped back though, at the same time reaching out to steady Kent as he spun around. Kent shrugged him off, mumbled something about getting back to the station and raced out of the shop before Chandler could stop him.

\+ + +

Now that Chandler was pretty certain of what Kent wanted, he was eager to take the next step. It was Kent’s birthday and the whole team had chipped in and bought him something but Chandler had his own special gift and it wasn’t one he could give him at the station in front of everyone else. He was taking a hell of a risk but deep down he knew he was right, so that evening after work Chandler called round to Kent’s flat to deliver his present in person.

“Did you want to come in, Sir?” Kent looked uncertain; probably a little shocked that his boss had turned up on his doorstep unexpectedly. His eyes strayed to the gift-wrapped box in Chandler’s hands then back to his face.

“No, I’ll just leave this here with you,” he said as he thrust the package into Kent’s hands. “If it’s not what you want we’ll never speak of it again.”

With that, Chandler abruptly turned on his heel and strode away, leaving a very confused Kent staring after him.

\+ + +

The following day turned out to be rather routine and quite boring. It was full of paper work and more paper work and despite having no new cases Chandler found himself staying late anyway. He said his goodnights and watched forlornly as everyone else left before returning to his office. He poured himself a drink then tried to focus on the work he wanted to get finished before he went home to his empty flat.

He’d been stuck in his office for most of the day and had only had a chance to speak to Kent a handful of times and certainly never alone. Their interaction when they’d spoken had been as professional as ever and whenever he’d looked Kent’s way the young DC had been busy scribbling something down or talking on the phone or chatting with Riley and Mansell. There’d been no acknowledgement whatsoever from Kent that he’d even looked at the gift, never mind what he thought of it, so it was more than likely he’d decided to take Chandler up on his offer never to mention it again.

“Thank you for the present, Sir.”

Chandler looked up, shocked to find Kent standing in the doorway. His expressive brown eyes were hidden as he stared at the floor but the collar Chandler had bought for him was clearly visible around his neck.

\+ + +

Chandler had been dreaming all day about bending Kent over and fucking him over the back of his couch and finally he was seconds away from doing just that.

He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened but after much discussion, some research and a little experimentation, Kent’s desire to please Chandler and submit to him had somehow evolved into puppy play.

Chandler was still dressed in his work suit but the only thing Kent was wearing was the collar around his neck and as Chandler worked Kent open, scissoring two lubricant-coated fingers inside him, he decided he’d buy Kent a butt plug so he wouldn’t need to waste time preparing him first. Not one of those with a tail because they definitely needed to work up to that first but a regular butt plug would suffice until then.

Kent could be ready and waiting for him when he got home just like any good dog who loved his owner should.

Chandler knew Kent would love it and suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer to be inside him. He removed his fingers abruptly, glad that Kent made a disappointed whining noise rather than a distressed one. He soothed his puppy by calling him a good boy as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, both of them groaning as he pushed steadily into him until Kent’s bare arse was pressed tightly against the front of his trousers.

Kent always started out by whimpering and whining and occasionally growling whenever he was being fucked but secretly Chandler liked it best when Kent cried out like the human being he was, spontaneous and unrestrained, because it meant he was enjoying being fucked so much he was forgetting to play his role.

This time when Kent called out his name, Chandler slapped his arse – bad dog! - barely breaking his rhythm. He would always be mindful of Kent’s scars because of the lingering ache he sometimes still felt so he never hit him hard; just enough for Kent to feel disciplined and get him back into character.

Chandler was aware of Kent trying to control himself after that. He was holding back which just made Chandler want to pound him even more. He gripped Kent’s hips tighter and set a rigorous pace. Kent’s panting and whining became louder and louder as he tried to keep up, pushing back hard with each thrust until finally he came, letting out a strangled howl that pushed Chandler over the edge as well.

Afterwards, Chandler always felt embarrassed by what they’d done. It was the sexual part of their arrangement that threw him. He’d known Kent was right when they’d had one of their many conversations about it in the beginning and Kent had assured him it didn’t mean either of them had some deep-seated desire to fuck a dog, but he still found it hard to wrap his head around.

When they’d caught their breath and Chandler had cleaned them both up, he led Kent around to the other side of the couch and flopped down, satisfied but thoroughly exhausted. Kent climbed straight into his lap and began nuzzling against the stubble under his chin, urging him to rest his head back. Chandler wrapped his arms around Kent and held him close. As he stroked the damp skin of Kent’s back he felt a wet tongue lapping at his neck and warm lips pressing tiny little kisses against him and just like that any lingering shame Chandler felt melted away on a soft sigh.

He wondered if he would ever stop feeling the way he did about what they got up to. The thought of inflicting his insecurities onto Kent and making him feel in any way demeaned gave him a physical ache in his chest but Kent was amazing and never failed to make him feel better. He seemed to know exactly what Chandler needed each and every time and Chandler vowed to do everything he could to return the favour.

After a while his puppy started to feel heavy and Chandler slouched down further to make both of them more comfortable. After pressing one final kiss to Chandler’s jaw, Kent lifted his head, happy just to sit there and wait for further instruction from his master. Their play didn’t usually last long after they’d fucked but Kent seemed quite content for the moment.

“C’mere, boy,” Chandler murmured, pulling him into a sleepy embrace, and as he ran his fingers through Kent’s dark curls he just knew everything would be okay.


End file.
